


The Wedding Date

by Lovespie (Snarryeyes)



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Angst, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Past Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:30:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5285582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snarryeyes/pseuds/Lovespie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the wedding of his cousin fast approaching, Zach faces the undesirable prospect of going alone. While this is bad enough, Richard, the man who left him as they moved closer to marriage, has also been invited as a close friend of the groom. Determined to show everyone, especially Richard, that his life is full and happy, not the disaster it actually is, Zach hires a charming male escort to be his date for the wedding. Over the long weekend, things happen, secrets come out, and everything changes.</p><p>[The Wedding Date AU]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [babykid528](https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/gifts).



> Wow, this one took a while. It’s one Big Bang late, but who’s counting? :P My heartfelt thanks to the always lovely Semper-ama for alpha/beta reading this for me despite her considerable workload *big hugs*, and to all the beans in the bar and on tumblr for continually encouraging me and helping me out with various things. And of course my thanks to Mystic for inspiring me with her prompt and being extra patient while I finished it, and also for being a wonderful friend throughout. I love all of you. <333
> 
> Lastly, huge hugs and many thanks to my wonderful artist @platypushko who brought my words to life with her amazing art skills. You can see her fantastic interpretations of several scenes from my story [HERE](http://platypushko.tumblr.com/post/134025312348/pinto-big-bang-click-through-to-nsfw-pic-its)! Please shower her with all the love she deserves. <333

Zach can hear the phone ringing as he slots his key into the lock of his apartment door. He’s almost certain of who it will be but, since his cell is dead and there is the tiniest chance it could be an audition call-back—or better, an offer—he pushes his tired muscles to move a little faster and manages to grab it on the final ring.

“Hello?” His initial suspicion proven correct, he collapses onto the couch. “Hey, Mom. Yes, I’m still coming. Seriously, you don’t have to check up on me every other day. I already have Joe on my back.” He closes his eyes, letting her words wash over him, as predictable and as relentless as the tide. 

His cousin is getting married in two weeks. Ordinarily not a big deal; he’s done his fair share of weddings and then some, and since this particular nuptial event is taking place at a rented beach house down the coast from LA, he doesn’t even need to worry about travel expenses apart from gas. The big ‘but’—the ‘but’ that everyone is tiptoeing around and yet managing to remind him of every fucking waking moment—is the fact that his ex has also been invited. And not just any ex; the ex that he had been certain would lead to his own happily ever after, who had wormed his way so far into the family that he’s now invited to weddings as a matter of course. 

After that experience, Zach isn’t sure he believes in the whole true love thing anymore, which of course makes attending a wedding that little bit more hypocritical. And obviously his ex is bringing his new partner—probably some highly successful, gorgeous, Adonis-type to ensure that Zach feels his inferiority in every way humanly possible.

He tunes back into his mom’s voice in time to hear her parental wisdom about finding someone new. This is what he hates most—the pity. It spurs his overly tired brain to respond with something utterly reckless and entirely false.

“Actually, Mom, I’ve already met someone.”

And so it is that when he ends the call a few minutes later, he’s not only gained a new boyfriend but also a date for the wedding. Now he just has to go out and find him.

 

A couple of days later, Zach’s heading home after another day littered with the shitty attitudes of bad customers and even shittier auditions. Exhausted, all Zach can think about is getting back to his apartment and closing the door on the world, for a couple of hours at least. Slowly climbing the stairs in his apartment building, Zach doesn’t notice the guy sitting on the top step scribbling on a bit of paper until he almost collides with him. Zach mumbles an apology, automatically shifting to the right to go around, noting two things as he does so: one, this isn’t a guy he’s seen around before—a new tenant maybe—and two, he’s kind of cute. But that’s irrelevant now because his door is in sight. 

Zach’s foot has barely landed on the top step, however, when a pleasant sounding voice draws his attention back down to the sandy blonde head still bent over the paper.

“Hey, do you by any chance have a pen on you? I’ve tried CPR on this one a couple of times but I think I’m gonna have to pronounce it.”

One thing about waiting tables is that you always have a spare pen on you. Zach fishes in his pocket and produces it. “Are you a doctor?”

Cute guy finally looks up, impossibly blue eyes meeting Zach’s, and laughs. “No! God, no. I’d end up killing more than just stationery.” He notices Zach holding the pen and takes it with a quick, “Thanks. I don’t suppose you also know the guy who lives in apartment 12, do you?”

“Intimately,” Zach replies, heading for his door. “Why?”

“Wait, are you Zachary?”

“Zach,” he corrects automatically, searching for his keys.

“Well in that case, I don’t need to slip a note under your door,” the guy says, getting to his feet and screwing the paper up.

Zach looks back at him, his expression now guarded. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Chris.” He holds a hand out and Zach cautiously shakes it. “From the agency?” Chris prompts. “We were supposed to meet at three.”

Everything catches up to Zach at once in an explosion of clarity. The agency, the escort, the moment of craziness that had landed him in this mess. “Oh! Shit, I forgot.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Chris says with an easy grin that promises no hard feelings. And up close he’s even cuter. Okay, his hair does need a bit of work, but the rest of him is damn near perfect. This could actually work.

“Sorry, I had a couple of last minute auditions.”

“Oh, you’re an actor?”

“When I can land a role,” Zack says undercover of trying to get his door open. Noah is there with a wet nose and tongue when he does. Zach looks back to Chris, preventing an overly curious Noah from launching himself at the newcomer. “Do we still have time to do this now? I don’t want to hold you up if you have somewhere else to be.”

“No, that’s fine,” Chris says, his smile widening as he crouches down to pet Noah. “This afternoon is pretty free for me.”

Zach glances inside his apartment and grimaces at the mess that he didn’t have time to clear up earlier. “Noah could probably use some fresh air and exercise. You want to walk and talk?”

“Sure.”

 

“So is this your first time?” Chris asks as they enter the park fifteen minutes later.

As they’ve spent the last five minutes engaged in pleasant conversation about their mutual love of dogs, the question takes Zach by surprise. “Excuse me?”

Chris shoots him a look, breaking into an easy grin. “This,” he says, gesturing between the two of them. “I get the feeling that this isn’t something you’ve done before.”

“That obvious, huh?” Zach says, bending down to let Noah off the leash. Without a backward glance, Noah runs off, scattering a number of pigeons in his path. Zach straightens, feeling suddenly awkward. “I, uh… I kind of got myself into a situation and I didn’t know how else to get out of it.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Chris walks to a nearby bench and perches on it before looking at Zach expectantly. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Zach joins him. He keeps his eyes on Noah as he talks. “I have a family wedding to go to in a little under two weeks and I need someone to be my plus one.”

“You don’t want to go stag?”

“No—I mean, I would have, but…” Zach turns to meet Chris’ gaze. “Look, do you really need to know why?”

Chris shrugs. “If it’s a simple date, no. But if there’s some kind of cover story going on, then we need to be on the same page.”

Zach expels a breath. It seems there’s no way around it. “My ex is going to be there with his new boyfriend.”

“Your family invited your ex? Man, that’s harsh.”

“He’s the son they’re never going to have,” Zach replies wryly. “They’ve been on at me to move on and find someone else, so… I told them I had.” Zach looks up and is relieved to see understanding in Chris’ expression and not a trace of pity; time to lay all of his cards on the table. “I just need three days. Three days to get through this wedding without being treated like I’m going to break. Without the side glances and concerned questions. Will that be a problem?”

“No. No problem.”

“How much are we talking?”

“Normally? Five thousand. But I like you so let’s call it four.”

“I don’t need your pity, man—“

“Not pity. I just have a feeling it’s gonna be a good three days.”

“Why do I have the feeling that I’m going to regret this?” Zach sighs.

Chris reaches over to pat his leg, a warm weight that is actually pretty reassuring. “It’ll be fine. So… details?”

“Uh,” Zach says, trying to swerve his brain away from the warmth that Chris’ hand left on his leg. “We’ll drive down to the beach house the evening of the eighteenth—that’s Thursday—around six. You can meet me outside my apartment. Friday is wedding preparation craziness and the rehearsal dinner, which is bound to be all kinds of family hell, and then Saturday is the wedding. Do you need me to get you a suit or—“

“Nah, man, I got one.”

“Then Sunday we drive back,” Zach finishes and Chris nods, fishing gum from his pocket. He offers some to Zach, who declines, before throwing a piece in his mouth.

“Cover story?” he asks in a puff of minty freshness. Zach tries not to be distracted by the working of his jaw and the smooth pink tongue that darts out to swipe across his lips.

“We met at an audition. You’re an aspiring actor, too.”

Chris hums, sinking back onto the bench and stretching his arms out across the warm wood. “I played Romeo in high school once,” he offers. “Didn’t want to, but whatever. They wanted the blond hair and blue eyes so I took one for the team. Plus Juliet was hot.”

Zach’s eyes swerve off Noah—who’s eyeing up a piece of sweet canine ass across the park—to look back at Chris in surprise. “You’re not…”

“Gay?” Chris finishes for him, smiling again. “You know, I’ve never liked boxes. Let’s just say, it’s always springtime. Don’t worry, I think you’re hot too,” he adds with a wink. “But anything beyond second base will cost extra.”

“Major or minor league?” Zach asks, unable to stop himself.

Chris laughs, revealing a set of perfect teeth to go with the perfect grin. “Major. Minor league is for freshmen.”

Zach can agree on that, although he isn’t sure why he needed the clarification. This is just going to be an acting job—something he is actually fairly confident he can pull off, even around his own family.

“So, do we have a deal?” Chris asks, holding out a nicely tanned hand. Zach shakes it firmly.

“Deal.”

“Great!” Chris smiles, holding onto his hand a moment longer before getting up. “The drive down should give us some time to get a little better acquainted and prepared. Here.” He slips a card out of his shirt pocket and hands it to Zach. “My number if you need to get in contact. Any time.”

Noah runs back over just as Chris is about to leave, as if he knows, and Chris crouches down to scratch his chin. “Nice to meet you, too, Noah.” As he stands, he slips a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses on, now looking more like a CIA agent, which makes Zach the scruffy informant left on the bench. Figures. 

“See you on the eighteenth.”


	2. Chapter 2

Zach almost calls Chris a few times over the next couple of weeks, in moments of weakness in which the plan seems utterly absurd. But he can practically hear Chris’ voice as his thumb hovers over the call button, smoothly telling him that there’s nothing to worry about, that it’ll be a breeze, and ends up throwing his cell aside.

When Thursday finally rolls around, Chris shows up right on time, giving Zach no excuse to back out at the last minute. This time he’s more hunky mechanic than CIA agent, casually dressed in a light tee and faded jeans that reveal bare ankles and flip flops, but the shades are still on. Aiming a dazzling smile at Zach, he throws his bag into the back of the Chevy without preamble and climbs into the passenger seat, dutifully petting an eager Noah.

“Let’s do this thing.”

“Seatbelt,” Zach prompts as he starts the engine and shifts the gear lever into drive.

“Okay, so number one, I know you’re a safe driver,” Chris grins as he buckles up. “What else?”

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”

 

Everything has to wait a while. They’re only four blocks down the road, barely past birthplaces and dates, when Chris is asking Zach to pull over for coffee.

“I’ll be real quick, I promise,” Chris says by way of apology as he clambers out. “And trust me, I’ll be a much better passenger _with_ caffeine than without. You want anything?”

“No, I’m good.”

True to his word, Chris returns in under five minutes with a skinny latte in one hand and a packet of Cheez-Its in the other, which he breaks into with enthusiasm as Zach pulls out onto the street. 

“God, I’m starving.”

“Busy day?” Zach asks, not wanting to dive straight back into twenty questions. He shakes his head as Chris offers him the packet. Well, waves it under his nose to be more accurate.

“Do you _really_ want to go there?” Chris counters, utterly serious, then immediately breaks into a grin before Zach can do much more than glance across at him. “Kidding. Just a couple of meetings and boring everyday shit. No biggie.”

“Oh, okay.” The smell of coffee is making Zach wish that he’d accepted the offer. He fishes around for something else to say. “So…”

“I think we were on childhood homes,” Chris supplies helpfully, and just like that they’re back on track.

 

They keep talking, through Cheez-Its, sipped coffee, and early weekend traffic, painting a broad sketch of their lives that lacks proper detail but can be returned to and filled in later. Sinking ever lower over the ocean, the sun creates a halo around Chris as he talks, the hues of light slowly deepening from golden yellow to burnt orange, and Zach finds himself returning to look more often than perhaps he should. Noah is now curled up on Chris’ lap, perfectly content, and Zach thinks that Chris really _could_ be his boyfriend.

“So where do you want to be in five years time?”

“ _Where_?” Zach repeats, thrown off by the asshole that’s just pulled in front of him.

“Yeah. Like, your life, your career…”

Zach scoffs quietly. “Right now, I’d settle for _any_ aspect of my life going well. I don’t care which.”

“I get that,” Chris nods, absentmindedly scratching Noah’s chin. He must catch a flash of doubt in Zach’s expression, because he snorts and says, “What? You think this was part of my life plan?”

“Why do you do it, then?” Zach asks with the hint of a frown.

“Because I’m good at it,” Chris replies easily. “I drifted around quite a bit after college, tried a lot of things, but this… this came easy to me. And I make a pretty decent wage.”

“And in five years?”

Chris shrugs. “Who knows? Right now, today, this is my life, and I’m pretty happy. But tomorrow, next week, next month, I may find something even better, and I’m open to that.”

Zach casts another look over at his passenger, at the carefree smile on Chris’ face as he gazes out across the ocean to the deepening colors of the horizon, the breeze ruffling his blond hair, and feels the smallest bit envious.

 

It’s another twenty minutes before the GPS informs them, in its horribly generic computer voice, that they’ve reached their destination, at the end of a bumpy track that connects to the coastal road. There are a number of other cars here already. 

The moment Zach turns the ignition off, Chris leans over and kisses him. Zach is too surprised to respond, and by the time his brain switches gears and notes how soft Chris’ lips are, Chris is pulling away.

“Wait—what was that?” 

Chris just smiles and extends a finger towards Zach’s face. “I was getting _that_ expression over and done with here in the car. Couples don’t tend to react that way.”

By the time that Zach has formulated a response, Chris is out of the car. Noah shoots a brief questioning look at Zach and then follows, relishing in his new found freedom and the explosion of new scents to explore. An inexplicable feeling igniting in his gut, Zach exits the car, calling Noah back before he can wander too far. Chris has already grabbed the bags—all of them—and is waiting patiently, looking totally at ease. Zach assumes it comes with practice.

The sun has fully set now but the sky hasn’t yet lost all of its glow, easily providing enough light for them to follow the winding path up towards the house. Zach relieves Chris of his bag and takes the lead, noting that most of the lights inside the house are already on. They’re probably the last to arrive. He wonders if maybe he should have left earlier, given himself time to settle, dealing with a steady trickle of greetings instead of what was bound to be an overwhelming welcome committee. But it’s too late now.

They’re still ten feet away from the door when it opens, spilling bright light onto the path. Zach immediately recognizes the petite figure waiting for them. She always seems to know exactly when he arrives.

“Zachary,” she greets, enveloping him in a hug the moment he’s close enough.

“Hi, Mom,” Zach replies, his voice slightly muffled against her shoulder. She pulls back and scrutinizes his face.

“You look tired.”

He dismisses her concern with a wave of his hand and a smile. “I’m fine. Mom, this is Chris.”

Chris steps forward then, a warm smile gracing his face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Quinto.”

“Oh, please, call me Margo,” she says, positively beaming at him. Her eyes flick back to Zach’s for a fraction of a second. She already approves. “Come in!”

“There’s my little bro!”

As he steps inside, Zach’s caught in a bear hug before he even catches sight of his brother, and he can do little about it.

“I did try to stop the Mom ambush,” Joe murmurs apologetically in Zach’s ear. “So,” he says, back up at full volume as he releases Zach and turns on Chris, his mouth splitting into a grin. “Are you going to introduce us, Zachary?”

Zach withholds a scowl at the use of his full name. Joe’s going to be like this all weekend, he’s sure. “Chris, this is my brother, Joe. Joe, this is Chris.”

Chris grins, slapping out a handshake. “Hey, man, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Joe says, and Zach can tell that he’s sizing Chris up, deciding whether to initialize the big brother routine. Zach’s so busy watching Joe that he almost jumps as Chris wraps an arm comfortably around his waist. He needs to get used to this. Luckily Joe doesn’t seem to notice, but Zach returns the gesture just in case.

“Who else is here?”

“Just the dozen or so we’re expecting tonight,” his mom replies, swatting Joe out of the way. “We’ve already had dinner, but I saved you some. Go freshen up and I’ll heat it through. You’re on the top floor, last bedroom to the left.”

There’s a sharp bark from outside and, suddenly remembering Noah, Zach rushes to open the door. “Sorry, buddy.” 

But while Noah gives Zach an appreciative lick, he then proceeds past him towards Chris, who smiles and bends down to pick him up. “Didn’t like that adventure, huh?”

And oddly enough it’s Noah’s approval that finally seems to satisfy any initial doubts Joe might have had, because there’s a genuine smile on his face when he steps in. “I’ll get him some food while you get settled. Come on, little guy!”

Before Zach can even get a word in, Joe has disappeared down the hall, still cooing to Noah in his arms. 

 

“Nice place,” Chris remarks once they reach the top floor landing. The large windows look out over the patio where most of the guests seem to be gathered, a murmur of conversation audible even through the glass. Zach can pick out a few familiar figures amongst them, but not the one he’s automatically searching for. Somewhere beyond must be the beach and then the ocean but the night has fully taken hold now and the darkness has claimed them. “Have you been here before?”

Zach starts, realizing that he’s just been standing there for the last minute or two. “No,” he says, with a small shake of his head, “never.” Readjusting his grip on his bag, he continues past the windows and down the hallway.

Their room is spacious enough if a little chintzy for Zach’s liking. There is of course only one bed, but it’s a large one. Zach’s gaze only lingers on it for a second as he sets his bag down and carries on into the en-suite. He lets the water run before splashing some onto his face, pausing as he straightens to stare at the man looking back at him in the mirror.

“You okay?”

Zach jumps, his hands releasing the edge of the basin where they had been clenched. “Yeah, I’m good.” He turns to grab a soft white towel from its holder, expecting Chris to retreat back to the bedroom. But he doesn’t. Instead, he moves closer. Zach watches as Chris joins his own twin in the mirror, two broad hands landing on his shoulders to begin a gentle massage, and it’s only then that Zach realizes how much tension is radiating through every part of him.

“Relax.” Chris’ fingers steadily smooth out every knot and kink—far more than just a car journey’s worth. It feels so good that Zach has to withhold a groan. “You’ll be fine.”

When he stops, all Zach can manage is a slow exhale and a murmured, ”Thanks.”

Chris simply smiles at him in the mirror. “All part of the service. So, are you ready to do this?”

“Yeah,” Zach nods, feeling a sudden burst of optimism. “I am.”


	3. Chapter 3

They find the kitchen easily enough, and Noah, who pads happily across the floor as they enter, his tail wagging furiously like they’d been gone for hours rather than minutes.

“Thanks, Mom,” Zach says, flashing a smile as she sets two plates of pasta on the counter, where a bowl of salad is already waiting. She makes small talk for a while and then leaves them to it, but as they eat, others come to pick up the conversation, greeting Zach and introducing themselves to Chris, seemingly pleased and curious about him in equal measure.

Zach is clearing the dishes when he hears someone else enter the kitchen, and he instantly smiles at the familiar voice.

“Hey, leave the dishes! You’re missing out on drinking time.”

“You still have the same priorities, huh?” He turns to properly greet the dark-skinned beauty, grinning as she pulls him into a hug. Chris remains where he is, leaning against the counter, smiling politely.

“Oh, sorry, Chris.” Zach pulls back, turning towards him. “This is Zoe. Zoe, Chris!”

“Hi,” Chris says, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. 

“Wow, nice to meet you, Chris.” She kisses his other cheek, too. “I’ve heard… literally nothing about you!”

Chris shrugs, playing that easy smile again. “Not much to tell.”

“That I don’t buy. Just look at those baby blues.”

“I’ve known Zoe forever,” Zach grins, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

“Still don’t see you enough,” Zoe says pointedly, jabbing a playful finger in his side. She looks back to Chris. “This one likes to tough it out alone. It would be infuriating if he wasn’t so damned lovable.”

“Hey, I came, didn’t I?” Zach says, drawing back.

“Good thing, too, or I would have hauled your ass here myself.” She looks deadly serious. “So, how long have you guys been going out?”

“A couple of months,” Zach and Chris both answer simultaneously, and Zach is glad that they went over the details in the car. 

“Completely in tune with each other already,” Zoe gushes, clasping her hands to her heart. “Seriously, though,” she says with a laugh as Zach rolls his eyes, “I’m so happy for you. Richard never deserved you.”

There it is. The first mention of him, dropped into the conversation like a rock on a pane of glass. Zach works hard to keep his smile.

“Anyway, we should probably go mingle properly.” Taking the cue, Chris links their fingers together. “And check that Noah isn’t defiling anyone’s leg.”

Laughing, Zoe says she’ll catch up with them later. 

 

After being reliably informed by Joe that Richard isn’t arriving until morning, no doubt with beau in tow, Zach is feeling significantly more relaxed as he steps onto the patio. It’s dropped a couple more degrees outside, but it remains refreshing rather than unpleasant, a soft breeze rolling off the ocean to ruffle their hair and clothing. The line of solar lights running around the edge of the decking gives everything a soft warm glow.

Heads turn in their direction as they join the small gathering, smiles flashed. They’ve already greeted most of their fellow guests, in-between mouthfuls of pasta, but there are a few introductions still to do. As Zach dutifully goes about it, he keeps hold of Chris’ hand, and it’s not entirely to do with keeping up appearances. The contact, the warmth of Chris’ skin on his, feels like a shield against anything that might be thrown at him, whether intentionally or by way of a carelessly slung remark. Chris, perhaps sensing this, squeezes his fingers gently while carrying on the conversation beautifully.

“You have a lovely family,” Chris remarks once they finally have a moment alone, sipping a fruity red wine as they lean on the railing at the rear edge of the decking and look out towards the ocean. They can’t see it—only a sprinkling of lights that mark the curve of the coastline to the north is visible—but they can hear the soft roll of the surf breaking on the sand in a soothing rhythm somewhere below.

Considering the fact that Chris has just been subjected to what can only be described as an inquisition by Zach’s slightly mad Aunt Barbara, Zach can’t help but look incredulous.

Chris catches his expression and laughs. “You do,” he insists. “Okay, your aunt is a little on the severe side, but that’s because she’s protective of you.”

Zach’s mouth twists in a wry smile. “No, she’s pretty much always like that.”

“I get the impression that she didn’t like your ex much.”

“One of the few he didn’t win over.”

Chris nods, taking another sip. “Let me guess… Joe was another?”

“Actually, yeah.” Zach frowns, casting him a speculative glance. “How did you know that?”

“It makes sense,” Chris replies with a small shrug. “He’s your big brother—protectiveness goes with the territory. I only have an older sister, but the same is still true.”

Like a demon summoned by his name, Joe appears at Zach’s elbow. He doesn’t look quite so relaxed anymore.

“Whatever you do, don’t go in the house. Mom’s on the phone to the wedding planner, who apparently can’t make it down until midday tomorrow, and there’s already a problem with the caterers.”

“What kind of problem?” Zach asks, frowning as he glances towards the house.

“No idea, I was swiftly kicked out again.” 

“Something always goes wrong just before a wedding,” Chris remarks. “I’m sure it’ll get sorted.”

“Hopefully before the bride and groom arrive tomorrow,” Joe says with a grimace. He looks at Chris thoughtfully. “It sounds like you’ve been to a lot of weddings.”

Chris smiles and Zach wonders just how many times he’s had to play this charade. “A fair few.”

“Big family?”

“Not really, but I know a lot of people.”

“Did you grow up in LA?”

“Jesus, enough, Joe,” Zach cuts in. “He’s just had an inquisition from Aunt Babs.”

“I’m only curious! You know, Babs is a sweetheart underneath.”

Zach snorts, emptying his glass. “Sure, if you dig beneath fifty layers of cynicism and disdain.”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Joe says, smirking.

Zach directs a level look Joe’s way. “If you do, I’ll tell her who broke her porcelain Chihuahua.” Then, with a smirk of his own, he takes Chris’ hand and heads over to join Zoe, leaving Joe looking scandalized but also grudgingly impressed.

 

“Can I ask what happened with Richard?” Chris asks later that night, into the quiet darkness that precedes sleep. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” he adds. “Just curious.”

Zach turns over to lie on his back, staring upwards as memories begin crowding in at the edge of his mind. “We started going out when we were at college together,” he says eventually, “and stayed together for eight years. We even talked about getting married, when it became clear that it could be a possibility down the track. Then… one day he told me it wasn’t working anymore. Just like that. No big argument, no drama, just neatly stacked boxes by the door when I came home. A few weeks later, he was with someone else.”

“…But you still love him?”

“No. Yes.” Zach sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid of finding out. He always had a way of getting to me.”

“Is that another reason why I’m here—to make yourself unavailable?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s part of it.”

Chris lifts himself up onto one elbow to look at him. Zach can only see the gleam of his eyes in the darkness. “You know what? I think you’re stronger than you think you are. Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy to be here for you—but you could totally have done this without me.”

And while Zach still feels the residual ache of loss, a place deep inside of him that remains empty and barren, he also feels immeasurably comforted by Chris’ presence. His fingers find Chris’ arm and exert a gentle pressure. “I kinda like having you here.”

“Then here is where I’ll stay.”

Zach can’t see Chris’ smile, but somehow he knows it’s there. He can feel it when Chris leans in to brush their lips together—probably intended as nothing more than a goodnight, but it makes him want to hold onto Chris for a little longer. Making a split second decision, he raises a hand to cup Chris’ face, slowly but surely kissing him back, relaxing as Chris goes with it. And just like everything else, he’s an accomplished kisser, something Zach only had a brief taste of earlier. 

With a final swirl of his tongue, Chris pulls back and whispers, “Goodnight, Zach.”

“’Night,” Zach manages.

The bed shifts as Chris retreats to his side, leaving Zach staring up into darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

After a restless and disjointed night of sleep, Zach wakes to find himself alone. Blinking against the sun streaming through the window, he reaches for his phone and grimaces at the time. He’s surprised Joe hasn’t been sent to personally kick him out of bed, although Chris’ absence probably has something to do with why he hasn’t. Zach sits up and looks around properly. The bathroom door is open and he can’t hear the shower, so it looks like Chris has been up for some time.

Pursing his lips, Zach gets up and heads for the shower, grabbing fresh clothes on the way. It’s going to be a long day, one he hopes he’s ready for.

 

Zach is surprised to find Chris in the kitchen, cheerfully cooking pancakes for everyone. He looks completely at home, a striped apron covering his white shirt and navy blue shorts, expertly tossing the browning pancake in the pan while arguing with Joe over the best topping. 

“No, man, it has to be blueberries; sweet, but not too sweet, and the ultimate superfood.”

Pausing in the doorway, Zach is struck by how easily Chris has slotted into his family in such a short amount of time. He almost wishes that it was real, that he wouldn’t have to act as he continues forwards to greet everyone with a broad smile.

“Ah, here he is,” Joe announces, halfway through a pancake dripping with syrup.

“Manners, Joseph!” his mom scolds. Her face softens as Zach deposits a kiss on her cheek.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Chris says, eyes alight with a smile. 

“Hey.” Zach leans in to meet his lips.

“Eating here!” Joe protests. 

Zach responds by glaring in Joe’s direction and purposefully pulling Chris in for another, longer version, until Chris laughs and jerks back to rescue his burning pancake.

“I hope you like yours well done.” 

“I don’t mind,” Zach says, keeping one arm around his waist from behind—partly to keep up the act and partly because it feels nice. He presses closer, resting his chin on Chris’ shoulder as he watches him expertly toss the pancake with a flick of his wrist. “How long have you been up?”

“An hour or so. You looked pretty wiped so I figured I’d let you sleep.”

“Thanks,” Zach says, touched.

“Here.” Chris slides the pancake onto the plate and hands it over. “Toppings are on the counter.”

Zach peruses the selection as he takes a seat and then plucks a handful of blueberries from the nearest bowl. Joe stares at him with clear disapproval and then looks accusingly at Chris, who just shrugs and spreads his hands, but he’s wearing a gleeful grin. Zach tries not to laugh.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks before taking a bite.

“Up and out,” his mom answers, depositing coffee in front of him. “Not everyone can sleep in, Zachary.”

“Aww, but Zachary does need all the beauty sleep he can get!” Joe says, ruffling Zach’s hair as he gets up. Zach swats his hand away.

“When’s the wedding planner getting here?”

His mom makes a disgusted noise. “Not soon enough. But I’ve sent your aunt Barbara to sort out the caterers.”

At the sink, Joe shoots him a grimace and mimes tightening a noose around his neck. Zach has to look down quickly to hide his smile as his mom continues discussing arrangements.

“—should be ready in time.”

“Do you need us to help with anything?” Chris asks, taking a seat beside Zach. He promptly reaches over and pinches a stray blueberry from Zach’s plate, tossing it into his mouth. Zach pretends to be outraged and gets a warm pat on the leg.

“No, that’s okay, hon; you’ve done plenty this morning. Why don’t you two go down to the beach? Joseph, you can do the dishes.”

Zach looks at Chris, tuning out Joe’s inevitable grumbling about this turn of events. “You want to?”

Chris smiles, as if he’s unused to being genuinely asked. “Sure.”

Already in suitable attire, Chris goes ahead while Zach heads back upstairs to change and find Noah. It doesn’t take him long, but by the time he makes it to the beach, Chris is already in the water. Noah heads straight for him and the breaking surf with a sharp bark of excitement, tail high and wagging furiously, while Zach toes off his flip-flops and lets his feet sink into the soft sand. It’s warm at the surface but deliciously cool the further down they burrow.

Shielding his eyes from the glare, Zach looks for Chris’ golden hair amongst the blue and finds him just as he turns. He grins as Noah splashes noisily towards him, then his eyes move up towards the beach and Zach.

“You coming in?” he calls.

“I think it’s more fun watching,” Zach shouts back, dissolving into laughter when Chris gets a faceful of wet dog. “Noah!”

Chris splutters, but he’s laughing. “He’s fine. Come on, Noah. Let’s go persuade Daddy to join us.”

Zach wanders closer as they head back in. Truthfully he has every intention of joining them, but any doubt he may have instilled in Chris’ mind is totally worth it when Chris rises out of the waves before him. Zach’s mouth goes dry as water cascades off the smooth expanse of muscled chest, leaving a sprinkling of sparkling droplets behind like a sky full of stars; amongst them, there’s a scattering of freckles and moles. Zach has to force his gaze upwards to meet Chris’ eyes, which are gleaming in a way that suggests he may have been caught.

“Come on,” Chris says, beckoning him with a slight toss of his head. “The water’s perfect.”

Zach manages to pull his T shirt off just before Noah reaches him and does a full-body shake, spraying his lower half with a mixture of water and sand. Zach yelps and holds his hands out as an ineffective shield, Noah barks gleefully—obviously thinking it’s a new game—while Chris just breaks into laughter.

“Karma, dude.”

 

Joe jogs down to join them a little while later, a surfboard tucked under one arm. Unlike his brother, Zach’s never taken to surfing—in actual fact, he much prefers a swimming pool to the ocean in general—but Chris’ eyes practically light up as they wade out of the breakers to meet him.

“Nice board, man.”

Joe grins, clearly pleased that someone finally appreciates it. “Thanks. You surf?”

“Yeah,” Chris replies with an enthusiastic nod. “When I can get a day off, that is.”

“Oh, have you been getting a lot of acting jobs then?”

Zach tenses, but Chris smoothly covers it. “No, not really. A lot of auditions, though, and I do a few other jobs to pay the rent. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I do,” Joe nods, throwing a sympathetic glance at Zach. After a thoughtful pause, he hands the board over to Chris. “Why don’t you catch the first couple of waves?”

Zach is pretty sure that Chris’ answering grin outshines the sun. 

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man. Go for it.”

Chris wastes no time in bounding into the surf, waiting until he’s beyond the breakers to hoist himself onto the board and start paddling out. The morning swell is by no means a surfers dream, but it’s substantial enough to provide relatively decent conditions.

“Not bad,” Joe comments as Chris jumps up to ride his first wave, balancing effortlessly, or so it seems. He certainly looks the part. “Is there anything he can’t do?”

Zach laughs, grabbing his towel to dry off. “I don’t think so. He’s constantly surprising me, I can tell you that.”

“You seem like a good fit,” Joe says a moment later, making Zach turn to look at him in astonishment. Not only does he carry the protectiveness of an older brother, he’d also had to step up when their father had passed. Zach can’t remember ever getting a verbal seal of approval from Joe on the few times he’d brought dates home. Getting it now, when he and Chris are actively deceiving everyone, makes Zach’s insides squirm unpleasantly. When Joe glances his way and adds, “I’m glad,” Zach has to force a smile and look away again before his face can betray him.

 

By the time Zoe appears, Joe’s managed to borrow another surfboard and he and Chris are attempting to outdo each other with every wave. Zach’s still watching from the beach, sitting with his legs drawn up, toes buried in the sand, while Noah runs between them.

“Hey,” she says, settling beside him. 

Tearing his gaze away from the ocean for the first time in several minutes, Zach smiles at her. “Hey. I missed you at breakfast.”

“Yeah, well, some of us were up and out early,” she teases, prodding his arm. “I could see that your mom was stressed so I offered to run a few errands. Most of the final arrangements have to wait until tomorrow, though.”

Zach grimaces, his gaze drifting back towards Chris, who’s just disappeared into the waves again. “Seriously, if this thing goes off without a hitch, it’ll be a miracle.”

“Speaking of miracles,” Zoe continues, tone mischievous as she follows his gaze, “do my eyes deceive me or has your new beau won the heart of a certain older brother?”

“It looks that way, doesn’t it?” Zach grins, despite the twang of renewed guilt that twists his stomach. Chris fits in so well, he could almost be a part of the family. It has only been a little over a day, and yet it seems like he’s been around forever.

Zoe grins back, nudging his shoulder. “Looks like this one’s a keeper. Don’t let him go.”

Watching Chris emerge from the water, spluttering and laughing, Zach almost wishes he didn’t have to.


	5. Chapter 5

They head back inside after an hour or so to shower and change. Zach has to towel Noah down before his mom will let him in the house, and Chris is already in the shower by the time he makes it upstairs. He sits down on the edge of the bed to wait, his gaze inexorably drawn to the shower cubicle visible through the open bathroom door. Although he can’t see anything clearly through the frosted glass, his imagination has enough to work with.

“Zach?”

He jumps, thinking for a moment that he’s been caught looking, but quickly realizes that there’s no way Chris can see him through the glass from that distance. He must have assumed that Zach would be there by now.

“Yeah?” he calls back, attempting a casual tone.

“Could you grab the shampoo from my bag for me? It should be right on top.”

Zach looks across to Chris’ bag, propped open on the bed, and sure enough, there’s a bottle poking out. He grabs it and enters the bathroom, hesitating once he reaches the shower cubicle. With a real boyfriend, he’d just open the door and hand it over, or maybe even strip off and join him, but he isn’t entirely sure what’s appropriate in this situation. 

Chris solves the problem by opening the door himself, apparently completely unconcerned with his nudity as he smiles and grabs the shampoo with a warm, “Thanks.” He must notice that Zach is trying to avert his gaze because he adds, “You know, you can look if you want… part of the package.” Zach’s eyes snap to Chris’ face in surprise, making him laugh and add, “You can even join me; I don’t mind.”

Zach shakes his head, although it takes more willpower than he’d like to admit and he can’t resist a quick glance down the toned body before he says, “Thanks, but I’ll wait.” 

Chris shrugs cheerfully and closes the door again. A moment later, as Zach settles back on the bed, a deep rich voice rises up from the shower, a little Sinatra to accompany the lather and rinse. Sinatra in the shower, Zach thinks, smiling inwardly. And damn it all if Chris can’t sing as well as he looks.

 

An informal get-together has been planned for the afternoon, a chance for the rest of the guests—those who have only just arrived, those who are staying elsewhere, and those who live close enough to drive down—to catch up with everyone else before the big day. It’s held in the open and spacious living room, which is bathed in sunlight every afternoon through the large windows that face west to the ocean. Sliding doors lead to outside decking and a short flight of steps down to the beach. 

Zach introduces Chris to the groom first, Zach’s cousin, Aidan, who happily welcomes him to the family. Aidan looks almost the same as Zach remembers him, except for significantly shorter hair; the rock star ponytail has gone in favor of a short back and sides. His petite fiancée, Emily, who Zach knows almost as well, is equally warm and gracious.

“We all went to college together,” he explains to Chris once the couple has moved on to greet someone else, “along with Richard and Zoe. Different courses mostly, but we hung around together a lot outside of class. I was the drama nerd, obviously, together with Zoe.”

“And the others?”

“A good mixture actually; Aidan was into architecture, Richard, the management side of entertainment, and Emily, art.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “You can imagine the conversations we’d have.” 

Chris snorts. “You mean like in-depth discussions about Hitchcock and Godard at three in the morning on a rooftop while smoking weed? Because I’ve been there, man.”

There are many more introductions to do as more guests appear, and all of the new arrivals seem particularly interested in Chris—so much so that, after a solid thirty minutes, Zach is beginning to think it’s a never-ending buffet line with Chris on the menu.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, after a slightly uncomfortable encounter with an old family friend who felt it necessary to hold onto Chris’ arm as she talked.

Chris just laughs. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had to deal with a lot worse, trust me.”

Catching sight of his mom with a new arrival, Zach’s stomach does a weird flip—he’s yet to catch sight of Richard—but it turns out to be no one he knows. He looks away again, somehow feeling relieved and disappointed in equal measure. Chris seems to know his thoughts, offering a sympathetic smile before they’re drawn into another conversation with someone else.

 

Somehow, Zach knows the moment he arrives. He can sense the subtle shift in the room, and his gaze is dragged inexorably towards the door along with everyone else’s. Richard looks much the same, exuding the easy-going confidence and charm that had won Zach’s heart years ago. Talking to Aidan, Richard glances up, his gaze sweeping the crowd, and Zach’s stomach clenches in anticipation.

“Hey.”

Chris’ soft voice successfully recaptures his attention, and he smiles awkwardly. Thankfully it’s just the two of them again.

“I take it that’s him,” Chris says, just as softly, scrutinizing the new arrivals.

“That’s him.”

Chris makes a non-committal sound in his throat, but when his gaze slides back to rest on Zach, it’s full of reassurance. Warm fingers catch and tangle in his. “You’ll be fine. You want another drink?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Chris shrugs. “Technically we’re both guests here, so…”

Zach smiles gratefully. “Yeah, something strong would be good.”

“You got it.”

As Chris moves away through the crowd, Zach’s tension resurface and he wonders if he shouldn’t have kept Chris by his side a little longer. He knows it for sure when he hears his name in that familiar timbre.

“Zach! Wow, it’s great to see you.”

Zach turns, hoping his smile doesn’t look as forced as it feels. Up close, he can see subtle differences in the familiar face; shortened hair, with a few flecks of gray, perhaps a couple more lines around the eyes, but still strikingly handsome. “Hello, Richard.”

“You’re looking well.” 

Zach can tell by the way Richard’s viridian eyes shift down his body that ‘well’ means _good_. It’s a look that stirs old memories. “Yeah, I _am_. I’m great, actually.”

“I’m glad.” Richard’s smile is genuine, which in turn takes some of the effort out of Zach’s. It reminds him of days and nights spent hunched over books, back when they hadn’t yet moved beyond friendship. The next moment, Chris is back beside him with two glasses of amber liquid that Zach guesses is whiskey. 

“Thanks,” Zach says, smiling as he takes a glass. He feels Chris’ arm slip comfortably around his waist and he returns the gesture. It doesn’t feel odd anymore; it feels natural. He also feels oddly possessive when he notices Richard’s gaze traveling down Chris’ body. “Chris, this is Richard. Richard, Chris.”

Richard flashes a smile. “Nice to meet you, Chris.”

“Likewise,” Chris says, nodding. His tone is ever so slightly cooler than normal, or perhaps that’s Zach’s imagination.

“You two been together long?”

“A few months,” Chris smiles, his arm tightening around Zach.

“How about you?” Zach asks out of curiosity, since Richard seems to have arrived alone. “Joe said you were seeing someone.”

Richard nods slowly. “Daniel, yeah. He was supposed to be here, but,” he shrugs, “there was a last minute modeling job he couldn’t say no to.” Zach feels an irrational flare of fear at that; somehow the reunion seems more dangerous. “He’s going to try to make it here for the reception, though,” Richard adds, grabbing a drink from a passing tray. He takes a sip and tilts his head approvingly. “What do you do, Chris?”

“I’m an actor. Well, trying to be anyway,” Chris amends, injecting just the right amount of insecurity. He could be an actor, Zach thinks. A good one.

“With a face like that, you should go far.” Catching sight of something over Zach’s shoulder, Richard’s expression transforms from jovial to alarmed in mere seconds. “Oh my god, Zach, is that your crazy Aunt Barbara?”

Zach turns, smirking as he sees her slowly approaching their position. “I’m afraid so.”

Richard grimaces. “She looks like she’s coming for my soul. I might just head in the other direction, if you don’t mind. It was a pleasure meeting you, Chris.”

“Yeah. You, too.”

Zach watches Richard’s retreating back, blowing out a deep breath. He feels Chris squeeze him gently.

“You did great.”

 

The rehearsal dinner that evening is more of an intimate affair, reserved for members of the wedding party and both families. Thankfully the difficulties with the caterer appear to have been resolved, and they’re able to relax and enjoy the good food and company, the only tears shed by Emily’s mom during Aidan’s heartfelt speech to his soon-to-be wife.

Zach is happy for them both, of course, but the evening leaves him feeling oddly restless. Slipping out of the house, he takes the opportunity to have a few moments alone. The sun has long since set, its blazing light replaced by the soft glow of the rising moon. It dances in a thousand broken fragments across the wide expanse of ocean. Zach goes down the steps onto the beach and walks a little way before sitting, soothed a little by the whisper of the waves lapping the shore. Still, that restlessness persists.

There was a time, not that long ago in fact, when he thought that he would be the one planning a wedding and settling down. But back then he also thought that his big acting break was just around the corner. It seems he’s been wrong about a lot of things. These days his life just seems to be suspended, perpetually waiting for something to go right, and the longer it goes on, the more he’s unable to drown out the voice inside his head that keeps on repeating the same question: what if it _doesn’t_? Hollywood is filled with people with dreams who tried and didn’t make it, and every day the bright lights of stardom lure more dreamers in. Who’s to say he’s any different? What if, despite all of his plans and determination, his journey is destined to end in failure and not success? Unlike Chris, he’s never thought of trying something different; he’s never wanted to _do_ anything else.

“There you are.” 

Zach sighs as Chris settles beside him on the cool sand, feeling Chris’ gaze scrutinizing his face. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Chris leans in to bump against him gently. “Once again with feeling.”

Like a broken dam, the words come spilling from Zach’s lips. “You ever wonder if you’re doing it all wrong? That you’re wasting your life on something that won’t happen?” He laughs humorlessly. “Probably not. It seems like you’ve got your life pretty well worked out. It’s just… sometimes I wish I could go back and start over.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure everyone has that thought at some point in their lives. Even me,” he adds, playfully nudging Zach’s elbow and drawing out a reluctant smile. “It may not seem like it right now, but you’ll get to where you’re supposed to be. To quote someone else, there’s no remaking reality. Just take it as it comes. Hold your ground—“

“And take it as it comes,” Zach finishes with him, his smile widening in surprise and pleasure. 

Chris nods, grinning. “There’s no other way.”

“You’ve read Philip Roth?”

“Yeah, I know,” Chris says with a small chuckle. “Literature doesn’t really go with my image, right? I’ve gotten that reaction a lot. Most people want the blond-haired, blue-eyed quarterback, not the guy who graduated from Berkeley with a degree in English Lit.”

It’s yet another layer to Chris, and Zach has to wonder how many others there are waiting to be uncovered. If Chris will let him. “I’m not most people,” he replies intently, receiving a soft smile from Chris is return.

“No… you’re not.”

“You’re a real enigma, you know that? I feel like there’s still so much about you that I don’t know.”

“I’m allergic to fabric softener,” Chris offers, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “And… I was right.”

“About what?”

“I’m having a really good time.”

Zach isn’t sure who leans in first, but their lips have barely made contact when…

“Zach? You out here?”

With a frustrated huff, Zach pulls back and shouts, “No!”

Joe’s response is immediate and more than a little amused. “Okay, well, when you stop not being out here, Mom needs you. So put Chris down.”

Chris snorts with suppressed laughter while Zach lets his head drop onto his shoulder. Even though he’s busy mentally cursing his brother, he can’t help noticing how good Chris smells, tempted to press his nose into Chris’ neck and inhale more deeply. Instead, with a sigh, Zach lifts his head and shifts to get up. Before he can, Chris curls a hand around his neck and tugs him forward so that their mouths can finally meet properly. Any sense of duty or obligation goes out the window at that point—Zach’s quite happy to let everyone else wait—but Chris only allows the kiss to last a few moments and then he’s pulling away again, shifting to get up himself, and Zach reluctantly lets him lead the way back inside.


	6. Chapter 6

Zach makes sure he’s up early the next morning. The importance of the day is evident as soon as he looks out of the window and sees a large white marquee already in the process of being erected below. After taking turns having a quick shower, he and Chris don some casual clothes—their suits already carefully laid out for later—and head down for breakfast. The mood in the house is a pretty even mixture of excitement and panic, everywhere a flurry of activity. With so much still to prepare, it’s a case of all hands on deck, and after wolfing some food down, they’re immediately given the task of picking up the cake.

“Are you sure you don’t need directions?”

“That’s what GPS is for, Mom,” Zach says, pecking her cheek. “We’ll be back with the culinary masterpiece before you know it.”

“Try not to drop it,” Joe quips as he passes, taking the opportunity to snap a picture of them with his camera. Zach bats it away, scowling. Naturally, as a professional photographer, Joe had been asked to take care of all the wedding photos, including the preparations. Zach’s pretty sure that his mandate doesn’t include ambush photos of him and Chris, though.

“Will you mind Noah for me?” Zach calls after him. Joe raises a hand in acknowledgement as he disappears out the door.

Chris snorts. “Yeah, dogs and wedding cake probably aren’t the best combination.”

“Unless you want to end up wearing it,” Zach says with a smirk, “and I don’t think that’s what they had in mind for the reception.”

 

It’s already warm out, the early cloud cover having thinned and broken up, leaving only a few solitary wisps drifting in the cornflower blue sky. They drive with the windows rolled down on the way there, letting the wind ruffle their hair as they sing along to the radio. Chris holds his hand out to catch the breeze with a relaxed smile, the sun making his skin even more golden. It takes Zach back to earlier that morning, when he’d awoken to find himself spooned against Chris’ back, his arm slung across Chris’ waist. His heart had raced a little at the realization, wondering if Chris was aware of it and trying not to dwell on how good it felt. He’d figured if Chris minded, his arm would have been thrown off by that point. Still, he’d carefully withdrawn it and retreated back to his side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling until it was time to get up.

“You’ve got a good voice.”

Jogged back to the present, Zach takes one hand off the wheel to turn the radio down. “Huh?”

Chris pulls his arm back inside, propping his elbow on the car door instead. “I said you’ve got a good voice. Have you done any musical theater?”

Zach’s first instinct is to deflect, because he knows for a fact that Chris’ voice is far better, but a quick glance at Chris’ earnest expression makes him backtrack.

“No, not since college.” He keeps his eyes on the road, but can feel Chris’ gaze still resting on him.

“You should.”

Shifting gears, Zach inclines his head with a small smile. “There hasn’t really been an opportunity. I mean, the only auditions I’ve been getting lately are TV pilots that have very little chance of being picked up. But yeah, if something interesting came along, I wouldn’t say no.”

Chris hums lightly in response. When he doesn’t say anything else, Zach glances over again to find him staring thoughtfully out at the passing landscape. Assuming the conversation’s over, he turns the radio up again.

They manage to find the place without too much trouble. With Joe’s parting words echoing in his ears, Zach is extra careful as they carry the intricately decorated three-tiered cake to the car, where it’s quickly decided that it would be safest if Chris holds it rather than risk it toppling over in the back. Zach holds the cake steady while Chris climbs into the passenger seat and buckles up, then he lowers the cake onto Chris’ lap.

“Try not to sneeze,” he jokes as he cautiously retreats.

“Try not to slam on the brakes,” Chris says in turn, flashing a grin.

Zach rolls the windows back up for the journey back, taking it extra slow. He can tell that Chris is amused by his overly-cautious approach, but he’s not going to fuck up the only important task he’s been given. It may take a little longer, but the cake is delivered safely. With that job done, Chris is whisked away by Zoe to help set up inside the now fully erected marquee, while Zach and Joe go to set out the rows of white chairs on the beach. A white archway has been placed in front; adorned with pale pink and white roses, and framing the ocean beyond, it will be the focal point of the ceremony. Joe’s camera is still around his neck, and he snaps a shot or two of the archway before they get started.

“I thought you were supposed to be taking photos of the bridal party getting ready,” Zach comments, setting out the first row on the left.

“I was, but I got kicked out when it came to dressing. I did tell them I’d keep the shots tasteful.”

Zach laughs, starting on the second row. “Yeah, I can imagine how that went down.” He pauses for a few beats. “You think you’ll ever do this?”

“Get married on a beach? No, too much sand, plus my hair would get all messed up before the vows even started.”

“And I’m supposed to be the gay one” Zach deadpans, rolling his eyes. “I meant get married at all, wiseass.”

Joe shrugs. “Maybe. I wouldn’t want a big fuss, though; just a good party. How about you?”

Distracted by an uncooperative chair, Zach looks up. “Huh?”

“Marriage…” Joe says, emphasizing the word as if he’s speaking to a five-year-old, “kids… the whole shebang. You can do that too, now.”

“Shebang really isn’t the right word in this instance,” Zach feels the need to point out, and has to quickly dodge a seat cushion thrown in his direction.

“Just answer the question.”

“I don’t know,” Zach replies honestly, because he doesn’t anymore. “I don’t want to get married just because I can, you know? Marriage should be about committing yourself to another soul because you can’t imagine ever being without them, not because you want to make a political statement.”

“I don’t see why it can’t be both, though,” Joe reasons as he retrieves the cushion and brushes away the patches of sand clinging to it; “get your happy ending while sticking it to the suits who hid behind their bibles to deny you marriage equality.”

Zach makes a non-committal sound at the back of his throat, arranging the last of the chairs on his side of the makeshift aisle. “How long do you figure we’ve got until Mom starts pestering us for grandchildren again?”

“Probably only until the reception.”

 

As Zach has agreed to be an usher for the ceremony, he goes back to his room to shower and change with plenty of time to spare before the guests are due to arrive. Just as he finishes shaving, Chris returns and heads for the shower that Zach just vacated, pulling his now rather grubby tee over his head as he goes. Zach allows himself one sweep of the toned torso before moving his gaze back to the mirror, swallowing around a suddenly dry throat as he rinses the shaving foam from his face.

He’s almost dressed by the time Chris reappears with a towel loosely slung around his waist. Caught off-guard, Zach’s fingers fumble with the tie he’s attempting to knot and Chris immediately steps in with a smile.

“Here, let me.”

He deftly pulls the knot free and starts again. Zach can feel the heat of Chris’ skin through his shirt, can practically see the steam still rising off it. His eyes lock onto a prominent mole just above Chris’ right nipple and then drag slowly upwards to his face. Chris is completely focused on his task, his concentration evident in the intense blue of his eyes and the tip of his tongue hovering right at the corner of his mouth. Zach almost jumps when those eyes flick up to meet his, Chris’ hands dropping away.

“All done.”

“Thanks,” Zach says, not moving. Chris doesn’t move either. In fact, he steps closer, lifting his hands to slide them around Zach’s neck. It takes Zach a few seconds to realize that Chris is straightening his collar.

“You look good,” Chris says approvingly, letting his hands settle on Zach’s shoulders.

“So do you,” Zach replies without thinking, cursing inwardly when he realizes how stupid he sounds. Chris doesn’t seem to mind, though. He grins and leans in to place a warm kiss on Zach mouth, his hands sliding up to cup his face. Zach wants to chase his lips as they retreat.

“Go do your usher thing,” Chris says, squeezing his upper arm before letting go completely. “I’ll be down in a few.”

 

As the other designated usher, Richard is already dressed and escorting the first few guests to their seats when Zach steps out of the house, still attaching his buttonhole. Zach glances at his watch as he hurries to join him, but it seems those guests were early; the ceremony isn’t due to start for another forty-five minutes. Even the string quartet aren’t ready yet, still warming up to one side.

“You always did look good in a suit,” Richard says in greeting, smiling widely.

“You too,” Zach smiles back, stopping beside him at the edge of the beach. From here they can see when more guests arrive as well as supervising the ones already present. “Looks like the good weather’s held out.”

Richard nods, looking skyward. “Yeah, not too much of a breeze either,” he says, then abruptly laughs. “Listen to us, making small talk about the weather. We used to stay up all night discussing Hamlet.”

Zach remembers all too well. “Hamlet’s a bit heavy for today, though.”

“True,” Richard muses. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.” 

Hearing voices, they both turn to see another group of guests making their way down the path to the beach, accompanied by the first strains of Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto.

“Oh, here we go…”

A few staggered groups soon becomes a steady stream and the seats fill up quickly behind those reserved for immediate family. When Aunt Babs arrives, she brushes past Richard and takes Zach’s arm with a rather loud and pointed, “Where’s that nice young man of yours?”

Zach dutifully smiles, but can’t help thinking the same thing as he leads her to her seat. Then, turning to walk back, he spots him. Zach doesn’t doubt that Chris could make any clothes look good, but Chris in a suit is on a whole other level; he wouldn’t look out of place in Monaco or Monte Carlo. He smiles as his gaze finds Zach and heads towards him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Chris says as soon as he’s close enough, “I got waylaid by your mom.”

Zach can feel Richard’s gaze on them as Chris leans in for a brief kiss, making Zach hold on for maybe a few moments longer than is strictly appropriate. 

“You look great,” he says as soon as they part, curling his hand around Chris’ with a bright smile to tug him further up the aisle. “Your seat’s up front.”

Everything passes in a blur after that and, before Zach knows it, every seat is full and the procession is about to begin. Nodding encouragingly at Aidan, Zach takes his place next to Chris and a hush descends, broken only by the relentless waves and the cry of a gull far overhead. As the processional music begins, everyone stands and all heads turn towards the bride. Emily looks nothing short of radiant as she walks barefoot up the aisle in a stunning white gown, comprising of a fitted off the shoulder bodice and long flowing lacy train, her long fair hair swept up and loosely braided with pink roses. Zach smiles and reaches out to take Chris’ hand without even thinking about it.

 

When it comes to the readings, Zach goes up to share a segment from one of Emily’s favorite books—one which fits the occasion perfectly. Having memorized it, he’s able to keep his head up, speaking loudly enough for his voice to carry over the breaking surf.

“Love is a temporary madness,” he begins. “It erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being ‘in love’ which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.” Zach’s gaze falls on Aidan and Emily as he finishes, injecting every syllable with feeling. “Those that truly love have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.”

“Nice,” Chris murmurs appreciatively when he retakes his seat. Zach smiles his way before refocusing on the officiant, who’s now proceeding to the vows, and doesn’t even notice when Chris’ hand slips back into his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zach's reading is an excerpt from Captain Corelli's Mandolin, by Louis de Bernières.


	7. Chapter 7

With the wedding planner now in attendance, the reception runs equally smoothly. Zach’s seated at a table near the front, along with his mom, Joe, Chris, and Aunt Barbara, and, while he’s grateful that Richard has been placed on another table, he has to put up with Joe snapping photos every few minutes all the way through the meal and the speeches that follow. Still, the happy atmosphere is so contagious that he can’t bring himself to mind too much. And he minds even less once they’ve gone through several bottles of champagne.

When the first dance draws everyone’s attention away—including Joe, who goes to photograph the event—Zach takes the opportunity to talk to Chris without having to censor his words.

“Sorry about the whole marriage and kids thing,” he murmurs, because not only had Joe’s prediction on that score been spot on, Zach and Chris and their future had been the focus of the discussion.

Chris flashes him an easy smile. “It’s fine. I have a mom, too.”

“Is she similarly obsessed with grandkids?” Zach asks, grimacing slightly.

“Aren’t most moms?”

“Point,” Zach concedes.

“But fortunately,” Chris continues, after taking a sip of champagne, “my sister stepped up to the plate. So I figure I’ve got at least a couple of years’ grace.”

Zach huffs. “You’re lucky. Joe seems quite happy to pass the buck onto me.”

“Do you _want_ kids?”

“Yeah, I think so… but I mean a _long_ way down the line. I have to figure the rest of my life out first.”

Chris hums in agreement. “Me too.” His knee brushes Zach’s as he shifts in his seat to look at the newlyweds dancing. “I don’t know how some people figure out their lives so quickly.”

It’s true that Aidan and Emily seem to know exactly which direction their lives are heading; they’re taking that journey together now, and they’ve never looked happier. As Zach watches, they wave others onto the dance floor to join them, clearly wanting to share the rest of their song with the people they love most. Zach sips his champagne, conscious of Chris’ knee still pressed against his, feeling the heat of his skin despite the layers of material separating them. Making a spur of the moment decision, he puts his glass down and stands to offer his hand.

“Want to dance?”

Chris’ eyes swivel up to Zach’s, his face instantly breaking into a smile. “I’d love to.”

Weaving through the tables to the dance floor, Zach can’t help but notice that Richard’s date still hasn’t arrived.

 

As the evening wears on, the crowd on the dance floor thins, the more upbeat celebratory songs replaced by slow ballads. Zach and Chris are one of the couples slowly revolving under the myriad of colored lights, having danced their way through decades of popular culture and even more alcohol. Chris is a good partner—not a great dancer, but he gives it his all and Zach appreciates that. Now, with his head pleasantly buzzing, he’s just happy to have Chris to hold onto.

“You okay?” Chris asks as Zach adjusts his grip. There’s an undercurrent of concern in his voice, making Zach wonder if he’s been quiet for too long. Chris probably thinks he’s having some kind of post-wedding drop.

“Yeah.” Zach nods and flashes a wide grin to disabuse him of the notion. “I’m good. This is… good.” He frowns slightly. Okay, so the alcohol may be inhibiting his ability to fully articulate his thoughts.

Chris breaks into a slow smile, and Zach is caught by the way it’s reflected in the deep pools of his eyes. He can’t help staring a bit. 

“Jesus, your eyes are so fucking blue.”

“So I’ve been told,” Chris says, his smile widening enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. Zach blinks, suddenly feeling unsteady on his feet, and presses closer to lay his foggy head on Chris’ shoulder. Much better. The world is still spinning, but Chris is a steady anchor. Zach indulges in the urge to nuzzle his neck.

“Mmm… you smell nice.” 

Chris’ laughter vibrates through his neck to tickle Zach’s cheek. “Are you always this complimentary when you’re drunk?”

Zach huffs a kind of vague grunt and snuggles in further. Being surrounded by family and friends gives him a perfect excuse to get close, and being drunk seems to take care of any of his prior awkwardness with the whole PDA thing. And the way that Chris is holding him—the warmth of his hand splayed across Zach’s back—he can almost believe that it isn’t part of an act. Overcome with a surge of bold recklessness, Zach brushes his lips against Chris’ neck, stealing a sneaky taste with the tip of his tongue. Chris must feel it because he turns his head to look down at him with an expression of mild surprise. At this point, sober Zach would step back. But drunk Zach, intent on tasting a little more, tilts his head up to meet Chris’ lips. 

The world seems to spin a little faster as they kiss, even though they’re still dancing slowly in the same spot to Lionel Richie. Zach hears a loud whistle behind him, no doubt from Joe, but he’s too caught up in the moment to care. Chris’ mouth is rendering everything else inconsequential, feeding an aching hunger that Zach wasn’t even aware he had. And everything’s perfect until Zach trips over his own feet, ending up slumped in Chris’ arms rather than embraced.

“I think we’d better get you to bed,” Chris says with another deep rumble of laughter, adjusting his grip so that he can slip Zach’s arm around his neck.

Only hearing the word bed, Zach hums his approval and allows Chris to lead him back towards the house. Through the haze of music and lights, Zach sees a few familiar faces, some sparing fond glances, others looking amused. He briefly sees Richard among them, but he’s gone before Zach can attempt to decipher his expression.

The cold ocean air makes its presence felt as soon as they leave the marquee, making Zach huddle closer to Chris’ heat. He’s probably leaning a little too heavily on him, but Chris isn’t showing any sign of strain or protest. He deftly maneuvers Zach up the few short steps to the house and they’re soon enveloped by warmth again. In contrast to the boisterous atmosphere in the marquee, the house is eerily quiet. Only the distant beat of the music can be heard from outside.

As they reach the stairs, a thought breaks through Zach’s daze. “Noah…”

“It’s okay,” Chris soothes, “he’s with Joe. Come on.”

These stairs are a bit more of an obstacle. They have to take several breaks to regain their balance when Zach’s body overcompensates and then does its best to give in to gravity, prevented only by Chris’ iron grip. The final few yards prove easy by comparison. Zach squints as Chris flips the light switch, too harsh after the soothing semi-darkness. He barely registers Chris lowering him onto the bed, only realizing that Chris is removing his shoes when he feels the tug and release. Chris rises onto his knees and leans in to loosen his tie, close enough for Zach to want to touch him again.

Zach reaches out to catch his hand as it retreats. “Chris…” 

When Chris’s cerulean eyes flick up to his face, open and questioning, Zach boldly lifts himself up to meet his lips, the fingers of his free hand hooking around Chris’ lapel. He feels that flare of heat again as Chris yields, this time pooling further down within him, fueling his desire for more. Perhaps Chris senses Zach’s need, because after several moments he switches gears, pushing Zach back against the pillows and taking control of the kiss. The dizziness rushes back, but Zach also feels a strange sense of clarity—although the world is still fuzzy, Chris has slid into focus, reassuringly solid under his touch. Zach holds onto that and lets everything else go, concentrating on the bold swipes of Chris’ tongue and the way his hand is cradling Zach’s skull, fingers splayed into his hair.

Like the sun, his heat is magnetic, pulling Zach in closer, deeper. Words tumble from his lips in-between kisses, but he’s too far gone to know what he’s saying. He only knows he wants more, and Chris seems happy to give it. Together they peel away the layers of clothing, always touching in one way or another, and when the last items have fallen to the floor, Zach pulls Chris down over him like a blanket, his mouth quickly finding Chris’ again. He can feel Chris’ hardness against him, burning like a brand into his thigh, feels his own eagerly answering it. His hands sweep the smooth planes of Chris’ back, tracing the flexing muscles just beneath the surface before dipping lower to cup and squeeze the soft globes of his ass.

When Chris tilts his head away, stretching to reach something, Zach’s lips latch onto his jawline and then his neck, biting the skin that he’d briefly tasted earlier. His hips rock up of their own accord as Chris shifts slightly, seeking further friction. Chris’ mouth returns to his for just a moment before he’s slithering down Zach’s body. 

Zach lets out a deep moan as he’s taken into Chris’ mouth and worked over. He spreads his legs wider in clear invitation, but Chris doesn’t make any move to take him up on it, seemingly intent on giving as much oral pleasure as possible. And he’s doing an outstanding job of it. Zach’s head is spinning. He’s so caught up in the myriad of sensations that it takes him a few seconds to register that his cock has been covered by something other than Chris’ mouth.

He opens his eyes to look at Chris, spots the empty wrapper and lube in his hand, and his cock immediately grasps the implication even if it takes his inebriated brain a moment to catch up—for some reason , he’d expected Chris to top… probably because that’s the way Richard had always liked it. In a single second, Zach’s hunger skyrockets; even more so when Chris shifts up to place his feet flat on either side of Zach’s legs, squirts a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, and then leans back to carefully work them inside himself. Zach’s cock is leaking into the condom already just from watching—not just the act itself, but the way Chris’ burning gaze stays locked with his through each stuttered breath. 

Without Chris’ touch to anchor him, Zach feels weightless… like he could float away. His fingers dig into the sheets, waiting for Chris to move within reach again. When he does, Zach reaches blindly, latching onto a smooth thigh with one hand, his other curling around the back of Chris’ neck to tug him back down. Their mouths meet in a messy clash of lips and teeth, Chris tempering his desperation with slow swipes of his tongue and a steady hand on his face, thumbing smoothing across his cheekbone. It helps Zach to regain his focus, and he’s glad of it when Chris pulls back to slowly sink onto his cock; he can feel every glorious inch of scorching heat, warming him to his core. 

His hands settle on Chris’ hips as he starts to move, only resting lightly at first but gradually applying more and more pressure, becoming more insistent with the urge to go faster, harder. When it still isn’t enough, he grabs Chris’ ass and uses his body to flip positions, and yes, Chris beneath him is better. He claims those sinfully rosy swollen lips again while driving forward into that tight heat, his hands finding Chris’ and lifting them above his head, fingers interlaced.

Chris lets out a deep groan of what sounds like approval and wraps his legs around Zach’s waist to adjust the angle, breaking the kiss with a gasp as Zach thrusts deep and presumably hits the jackpot. The fuzziness is still there around the edges of his brain, but Zach focuses everything on hitting that spot again and again, driving Chris closer to the brink of a precipice he’s barely clinging onto. He doesn’t want to fall yet. Chris is everywhere, surrounding him, permeating each of his senses, filling a hollow inside him with warmth; in Chris’ embrace he feels whole again somehow.

He can’t hold on, though. The coil has wound as tightly as it will go; it has to snap. And Chris is just as close—Zach can tell from his increasingly labored breathing. He slips one hand from Chris’ and reaches down to enclose his shaft, reclaiming his lips as he firmly strokes in rhythm with his thrusts, the slide of his fingers eased by the generous amount of pre-come pooling at the head. It happens in an instant, his orgasm surging through him and bursting into a thousand stars behind his eyelids, coming apart just as he feels Chris pulse in his hand. They hang suspended in the moment, no longer kissing, just breathing against each other’s lips. And as the bright light fades from Zach’s body, the last of his strength goes with it. Shifting to collapse beside Chris, he’s out almost before his head hits the pillow.


	8. Chapter 8

Pain wakes Zach early the next morning, lancing through his skull to beat behind his eyes. As he rises to full consciousness, his stomach also lurches threateningly. He grimaces, cracking open one eye and then the other. Chris is lying facing him, still sleeping peacefully, one hand curled around the pillow. His skin looks even more golden in the early morning light. While Zach can’t remember much of the night before, or anything tangible beyond vague recollections of dancing, he can recall snatches of emotion when he looks at Chris… warmth… safety… contentment. It brings a smile to his face despite his substantial hangover.

It’s not until he shifts position that he realizes that he’s completely naked. He freezes, his gaze flying back at Chris as if looking at him will somehow jog his memory. It doesn’t. Deciding to worry about that later, Zach slides out of bed and goes into the bathroom to relieve his full bladder. He catches his reflection in the mirror as he washes his hands and grimaces—with his washed out skin, crazy hair, and morning stubble, not to mention the dark shadows under his eyes, he could easily pass for a vagabond. It also feels like something crawled into his mouth and died. Zach fills a glass of water and drinks it down before brushing his teeth, which improves the situation slightly but not enough, so he quietly closes the door and climbs into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the remnants of the previous day.

Now clean at least, he shuts the water off and grabs a towel to dry himself, wincing, as every movement jars his aching head. Coffee. He needs really strong coffee. Pulling on the first clean clothes he finds, he leaves Chris sleeping peacefully and heads down to the kitchen. Surprisingly, given the early hour, he’s not the first there.

“Coffee?” Richard asks knowingly, looking every bit as rough as he sips his own.

Zach starts to nod and winces, quickly aborting the gesture. “Yeah, thanks.”

Richard pours him a cup and slides it along the counter. “We must be getting old,” he says with a soft huff of laughter. “I don’t know about you, but I remember mornings after being a whole lot easier.”

“They were,” Zach agrees, sinking onto a stool and cradling the steaming cup between his hands. “It was a good party, though—from what I remember anyway.”

“You definitely looked like you were having a good time.”

It’s a loaded comment, which makes Zach glance Richard’s way, but he’s seemingly intent on adding sugar to his coffee and Zach can’t detect anything underhanded.

“Did Daniel make it?”

“No.” Richard’s tone sounds a little too casual. He shrugs. “I guess the modeling job took longer than he expected.” It occurs to Zach that he should probably grab another cup of coffee and return to Chris, but then Richard settles on the stool beside him. “How about you? Have you got any jobs in the pipeline?”

“A couple,” Zach says, inclining his head. It’s not a lie exactly—he’s still waiting to hear back from a couple of auditions. 

“I always knew you’d make it.”

Richard gives him a warm smile, and for a moment Zach is transported back to when they used to sit like this in the kitchen of their old apartment, chatting about their respective days over coffee. The knuckles of Richard’s left hand are brushing ever so slightly against Zach’s arms, making the hairs stand on end.

There’s a split-second when Zach knows exactly what he’s going to do, but his body is sluggish and his reaction time too slow to do much except make a small _oomph_ sound as Richard’s lips descend on his. And it’s a strange being kissed by that mouth again; it feels familiar, very familiar, stirring an ocean of memories, but the spark he’s waiting for doesn’t materialize. It’s a pleasant burn rather than a raging fire, and the urge to sink into it and yield never comes. He breaks the kiss a moment later, but the words that fly to his lips never quite pass them. They die the moment he sees Chris standing in the doorway. 

Something passes through Chris’ expression—something Zach can’t quite decipher—before he turns and walks out again. Zach starts to go after him, but Richard quickly catches hold of his hand.

“Zach—“

The patio door opens then and Joe appears, surfboard under his arm. He freezes as he takes in the scene, drawing Richard’s attention away, and Zach takes the opportunity to pull his hand free, scrambling after Chris before Richard can attempt to stop him again.

“Chris!” he calls as he hits the stairs. “Hey, man, wait up!” But with Chris’ head start, Zach doesn’t catch up with him until he enters their room. “Hey, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

Pulling a fresh tee over his head, Chris shoots him a disbelieving look. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure it was exactly what it looked like.”

“Well, okay, it was a kiss, but he kissed me.” When Chris gives him a rather mocking smile, Zach’s defensive side kicks in. Because really, whether it was reciprocal or not, what business was it of Chris’ who he did or didn’t kiss? “Why are you pissed anyway? It’s not like we’re actually dating!”

Chris huffs a laugh through his nose, devoid of any amusement or warmth. “You’re right, we’re not.”

“So this has nothing to do with you.”

“Nothing at all.”

Through his still quite considerable hangover, a sudden thought occurs to Zach. “Look, if anything happened last night, like… well, you know… you’ll get your money.” Chris’ expression hardens as he turns to swipe his pants off a nearby chair. “How much do I owe you now?” Zach presses. “Huh? Forty five hundred?”

Chris doesn’t look at him as he answers.“For sleeping together? An extra grand.”

“An extra _grand_?” Zach repeats, not sure he heard right.

“That’s right,” Chris says matter-of-factly. When he looks back at Zach, his expression is cool and detached. “But we didn’t, so you’re off the hook. It’s just four thousand, then you can go back to repeating your mistakes without me in the way.”

Jaw clenching involuntarily, Zach grabs his wallet and slides a thick wad of bills out. He tosses them onto the bed. “Right. And you can go to your next paycheck.” 

Without another word, Zach turns on his heel and leaves.

 

He’s down the stairs and almost at the kitchen door when the sound of his name makes him pause—not just his name, but the way Joe says it. He sounds uncharacteristically serious. Brow furrowing, Zach moves closer to listen.

“—told you to stay away from him.”

Richard’s reply is immediate. “Come on, Joe, we were just—“

“I know exactly what you were doing,” Joe cuts in, tone low and deadly, “and you’re gonna stop right now or I swear to God, I’ll tell him the truth.”

Zach’s moving before he’s even aware of it, pushing the door open to stare both of them down. “The truth about what?”

Richard attempts to cover his momentary panic with a nonchalant smile, but it’s a weak effort. “Nothing! Forget about it.” He doesn’t quite meet Zach’s gaze, though, and beats a hasty retreat.

“Joe?” Zach says, pinning him with a ‘no bullshit’ look. 

Still scowling at the door Richard just disappeared through, Joe drags his gaze back to Zach and exhales heavily. “Okay, just… don’t get mad.”

That is never a good omen as far as opening lines go, and Zach knows that the chances of remaining calm are slim at best. There’s still residual anger bubbling away from his exchange with Chris and this conversation is doing nothing to dispel that. 

Apparently it’s clear to Joe that he’s not going to get agreement on the point because he plunges on. “You remember that trip you went on just before you guys broke up?”

Zach isn’t likely to forget it, as it is irrevocably bound in his memory to the awful events that followed. “Yeah, I had a couple of auditions in New York… I stayed there a few days.”

“And Richard didn’t go with you.”

“He was supposed to, but in the end he had to work. What’s this about, Joe?”

“I went over to your apartment while you were away—Mom had asked me to pick up that dish she’d lent you, since she needed it and she knew I had a key.”

Zach feels his chest constricting in a kind of dreadful anticipation.

“I would have been in and out in a couple of minutes, and I wouldn’t have been any the wiser… if I hadn’t heard voices.” The pressure on Zach’s chest increases, and part of him wants to walk away without hearing the rest. But he stays in place, holding Joe’s gaze even though it’s increasingly difficult. “I walked in on him with another guy, Zach.”

Despite knowing it was coming, the words still hit Zach like a punch to the gut. He sinks into the nearest chair.

“And not just any guy,” Joe continues, somewhat reluctantly. “It was that actor you introduced me to at that party… the one you lost that movie role to.”

Zach remembers him clearly—a little shorter and slighter than Zach, and devastatingly handsome. It was hardly surprising that the network executives gave him the role. Looks count, especially in Hollywood. Apparently Richard couldn’t resist them either. 

“So I told him… either he ends things with you or I let you know exactly how much of an asshole he _really_ is.”

Zach’s anger flares again. He violently pushes off the chair and heads for the patio door, shaking off Joe’s attempt to grasp his shoulder. “All this time I thought it was something I did,” he says, voice tight with anger as he grasps the door handle. “You should have fucking told me, Joe.” 

 

He goes down to the beach. Thankfully it’s deserted at this hour and he can sit and stare across the ocean in complete solitude, letting his mind fly over everything that’s happened since he got back from that trip to New York, his anger mounting at being kept in the dark. Joe may have had his best interests at heart, but they aren’t little kids anymore. He should have told him the truth. At the very least it would have spared him months of relentless pain and self-doubt. Now anger eclipses that pain; not just for the past, but also for Richard having the audacity to try to rekindle things now. The thought of their brief kiss makes Zach’s delicate stomach churn. How could he have been so stupid? So blind? Chris was right.

_Chris._

The thought triggers a series of foggy memories to rise from the void—a soft neck… steady hands supporting him up the stairs… being enveloped in the warmth of hard muscles and tender caresses. In one moment it all clicks into place and Chris’ reaction suddenly makes a lot more sense. 

Zach pushes off the sand and heads back to the house, hoping he can avoid Joe on his way through. His luck holds and he reaches their room without being intercepted. An apology is ready to spill from his lips as he opens the door, but Chris isn’t there. Frowning, he walks through to check the bathroom. Empty. His gaze sweeps the room, noting that everything of Chris’ has gone… except one thing. The money—all four grand of it—is still lying scattered across the bed.

The fog of Zach’s hangover is blasted away in one sickening moment of realization. In those few days, he had become more to Chris than a business transaction. And, worse, the thought of never seeing him again makes Zach realize that the reverse is also true. He wants Chris with him, not to protect himself or to pretend to his family, but because he can’t imagine being without him now. He’s been so busy worrying about his life that he failed to spot the really good thing that had just entered it.

He bumps into Joe on the way back down, forgetting in his haste that he’s supposed to be angry with him. “Have you seen Chris?”

“No,” Joe replies, frowning. “Why? Oh Christ, please tell me you didn’t—“

Zach doesn’t let him finish, just rushes past him towards the front door. Noah’s at his feet as he opens it, a ball of excitable energy ready to be released. As he tears off ahead, Zach shields his eyes from the morning sun to scan his surroundings, but there are just the same line of cars parked up. Cursing, he jogs a little way up the path, clutching onto some feeble hope that Chris is just out of sight. By the time he reaches the road, dust in his sandals and sweat running down his brow, he knows it’s pointless. Still, he looks long and hard in both directions before slowly turning back towards the house.


	9. Chapter 9

Zach hits the road a few hours later. He’d planned to stay until late afternoon and then drive back, but he hadn’t counted on having to answer countless questions about Chris leaving, never mind the strained atmosphere between him and Joe, or the fact that Richard also left pretty abruptly with his tail between his legs. Zach makes up an excuse for Chris’ departure—some family emergency—and uses the same excuse to get out of there himself. The beach house, the ocean, the stunning view, _everything_ has lost its appeal somehow. The colors seem muted now, the landscape empty and cold. 

Likewise, the journey back is a joyless affair; even Noah seems subdued. Zach’s gaze is fixed on the road ahead, but his mind is flying back over fragments of conversations and looks that could be interpreted differently with the gift of hindsight. It’s Chris that stays in his mind, though, through the building traffic as he approaches the city, as he parks and remembers the beginning of their trip together, when he carries his bags up the stairs to his apartment and passes the step where Chris had been perched on that first day. He continues on to his door, trying to ignore the ache that each memory ignites, but when everything is unpacked and there’s nothing left to distract him, Zach stares blankly up at the ceiling from his couch and dwells on just how badly he’s fucked everything up.

 

Over the next couple of days, Zach goes to call Chris several times, but never makes it past dialing his number. No matter how many different ways he can think to try to start a conversation, the words sound hollow. He’s mostly convinced that Chris wouldn’t accept the call anyway. Still, he’s unusually anxious every time his phone rings because there’s an infinitesimal chance that it could be Chris. Zach’s ignoring Joe’s calls altogether, because although he knows Joe was only trying to protect him, he still doesn’t feel up to forgiving him; not until he can sort this mess out anyway.

He’s sitting sprawled across his couch on Wednesday morning, once again scrutinizing the small rectangular card that Chris had given him, now worn around the edges from the repeated handling, when his phone rings. He jumps, cursing the way his heart speeds up dramatically as he reaches to grab the phone off the table and peer at the display. Normally his agent’s name on the caller display would cause a flutter of excitement, but today it’s hard not to deflate a little.

“Hey, Mark.”

“Zach! Glad I caught you,” he says, and sounds it, rushing straight on with, “are you free this afternoon?”

Curiosity overrides Zach’s desire to end the call quickly. “Yeah, my shift doesn’t start till six.”

“Good, because you have an audition at the El Portal Theatre.”

Brow furrowing in confusion, Zach casts his mind back for any previous mention of this. He comes up blank. “An audition? For what?”

“They didn’t really go into details.”

Zach pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger. “You’ve gotta give me something here, man. Who’s they?”

“Look, I had a call from the casting director asking if you’d drop round to audition for a part in a new production. And he asked for you by name, Zach. That’s all I know. So… can I tell them you’ll be there?”

Zach really didn’t like the idea of showing up to an audition without having a scene prepared, let alone not knowing anything about the part or the play itself, but he also didn’t have a lot to lose. He’d had little success so far and the auditions were quickly drying up. He lets his hand drop and grabs a pad and pen.

“Yeah, sure. What’s the address?”

 

Zach’s never been so nervous about an audition, but then he’s never had to go in blind before. The casting director, who introduces himself as Alex Sullivan, and his assistants are very warm and welcoming, doing their best to put him at ease before they get started, but it doesn’t do much to settle the swarm of butterflies in Zach’s stomach; neither does the row of suits watching silently from the back.

He quickly learns that the audition is for a musical production, and not just any musical production—Sweeney Todd. Furthermore, Zach is apparently auditioning for the lead. He half expects someone to burst in at any moment to tell him it’s all one big mistake, but there are no interruptions. 

Recognizing that he’s had no time to prepare, they run through the scene with him first, giving a brief synopsis of events up until that point and what the scene itself entails. Fortunately, Zach has been a fan of the play for many years so the lines are like old friends, which makes the song he has to sing at the end oddly fitting. He can already feel himself sinking into the part, taking on the black parts of Todd’s soul.

One of the assistants steps up to the stage to provide Mrs. Lovett’s lines, starting the scene.

“So it is you,” she says clearly. “Benjamin Barker.”

“Where's Lucy?” Zach demands, flooding his tone with anxiety. “Where’s my wife?”

“She poisoned herself. Arsenic from the apothecary on the corner. I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen to me. And he's got your daughter.”

“He? Judge Turpin?”

“Adopted her like his own.”

Zach lets his gaze drop from hers to the floor, wandering without focus. “Fifteen years of sweating in a living hell on a false charge,” he says in a low voice. “Fifteen years dreaming that I might come home to find a loving wife and child...” He stares at a spot offstage, allowing himself to fill with cold rage, murderous intent shining in his eyes.

“Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker, but you still—“

“No, not Barker,” Zach says in a lifeless tone, still staring, unblinking. “That man is dead. It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd ... And he will have his revenge. Judge Turpin and the Beadle will pay for what they did.”

He pauses, and he can feel the tension, the weight of every pair of eyes on him as he finally turns back to look at her with a chilling resolve. “First I must have my shop back.”

“And end scene!” Alex calls. “That was fantastic, Zach. Really fantastic! Now the song…”

The nerves that had settled somewhat as he’d gotten into the scene flutter back to the surface. Zach puts that aside, holding onto the character he’s crafted in his mind, letting him fill his body as he listens to the music and is given his cue to begin.

“These are my friends,” he sings, soft but intense. “See how they glisten…”

 

It’s over before he knows it, and although he feels pretty good about how it went, he doesn’t entirely trust that feeling until Alex asks him to come back the following day.

“I have someone I’d like you to read with—she’s a hot contender for the role of Mrs Lovett, and I have a feeling you’d work really well together. Are you free the same time tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Zach says, trying not to pounce on the question. He may well have a shift tomorrow afternoon, but he’ll just have to switch it if that’s the case. Or call in sick.

Alex gives him a friendly slap on the back, smiling widely. “Great, I’ll see you then!” As he lets go, he shakes his head slightly. “I’ve gotta hand it to him, he was right about you.”

His mind already on the following day, and the bubbling excitement in his gut, Zach has to rein his thoughts back to the present. He frowns as the words register. “Who was?”

“Chris.”

Zach stares at him, a whole new emotion threatening to take over. “Chris? As in Pine?”

Alex nods, sliding a sheaf of notes into a soft leather briefcase. “Yeah, he’s a good friend of mine; said he knew just the man for this production.”

Zach’s heart is beating faster now than it did throughout the audition. “I haven’t caught up with him in a while. I don’t suppose you know where I can find him, do you?”

“The man’s a nomad. But most evenings you’ll find him at a bar a couple of blocks over; that’s where he likes to unwind. Even helps out occasionally.”

Grabbing his jacket, Zach makes sure he gets the name and address before he leaves.


	10. Chapter 10

Zach has to wait until after his shift to check the bar out, although he reasons that even if he’d had time to check it out before his shift had started, Chris probably wouldn’t have been there that early. He discounts the option of calling—some things have to be done and said in person, and this is definitely one of them. Still, his heart is thudding in his chest as he pulls the door open and enters, his senses instantly assaulted by the roar of countless conversations, combined with loud music and raucous laughter.

Zach’s eyes rake the crowd, pausing every so often when they catch a flash of blue eyes or gold hair. He’s beginning to think that he’s out of luck when he catches sight of something promising behind the bar. The guy has his back turned, but he’s about the right height, with the same hair… Zach inhales sharply as the guy turns and he’s looking into those blue eyes again, crinkled around the edges as Chris jokes with a customer. Then Chris’ gaze swings away, skirting across the crowd and right across Zach until realization hits and they lock back onto him, widening slightly in surprise.

Kicking his feet into gear, and with a small smile, Zach approaches slowly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Chris says, slinging the bar cloth in his hand over his shoulder. They look at each other for a long moment before he continues with, “What can I get you?”

“Actually I was hoping…” Pursing his lips, Zach shakes his head and starts again. “Is there somewhere we can talk? Just for a minute,” he adds, anxious to get Chris’ agreement.

Chris nods and looks away to call down the bar. “Hey, Steve! I’m taking my break now, okay?”

Steve barely glances his way, merely waving a hand. “Yeah, yeah, get that pretty face out of here.”

“He’s a good guy really,” Chris tells Zach with the shadow of a grin, tossing the cloth onto the counter as he leaves the bar.

“So you’re a bartender as well, huh?” Zach asks, anxious to ease into the conversation slowly.

Chris leads Zach away from the bar to a quieter spot near the restrooms. “Used to be. One of my many phases,” he explains, his lips twitching upwards. “These days, I just help out when they need someone.”

Zach nods, recognizing that the time for small talk is over. He takes a breath and forces himself to look Chris square in the face. “Listen, I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved.”

“You don’t have to—“

“Yes, I do,” Zach nods. “I was an asshole.”

“Well, yeah, you kind of were,” Chris agrees, a smile playing around his mouth. “But hey, I didn’t help—“

“No, you were right.” Zach lets out a soft huff of laughter, running a hand through his hair distractedly. “About everything, it turns out. The point is,” he says, forcing himself to continue, “I’m never going back to Richard. We’re over, for good.”

Chris nods carefully, his expression neutral.

“I wouldn’t have anyway,” Zach continues. “There was nothing in that kiss, for me anyway, not like…” He grimaces, blowing out a deep breath. “Man, I’m fucking this up.”

“What are you trying to say, Zach?”

Zach looks up at him and sees something in his eyes that gives him courage. “I remember… the night of the wedding. I don’t want that to be the last.”

To Zach’s dismay, Chris’ eyes dim at that. “I’m sure you can find someone else to take care of that.”

Cursing, Zach grabs his arm. “No, that’s not what I—fuck.” 

Deciding to try something other than his suddenly limited vocabulary, he launches himself at Chris, meeting his lips with a soft _oomph_.

There’s a few seconds of nothing, when Chris’ lips remain utterly still beneath his, making the anxiety in Zach curl tighter, threatening to sink down into something worse. But then Chris’ hand is in his hair and his lips part, welcoming Zach inside, and Zach’s floating again; not from alcohol, or the buzz of a wedding, but because this feels like home.

A loud whoop and whistle from the bar, which Zach presumes is courtesy of Steve, breaks them apart—not far, just enough to laugh softly against each other’s lips. Zach’s gaze flicks up to meet bright blue, and the words spill from him without any effort at all.

“Do you think maybe you could start a new phase… with me?”

A smile lights up the ocean blue from within, spreading outwards to crinkle the edges. “You know, I think I could.”

Zach pulls back to study his face, hope soaring. “Really?”

Chris nods, resting his palms on Zach’s chest. “That morning we fought, I thought this was over. And I was just going to go back to this life and move on. But I’ve come to realize… I’d rather fight with you than make love with anyone else.”

The words are still sinking in when Chris cups his face and kisses him again, slow and soft this time, conveying so much more than simple unbridled passion. His heart full, Zach can only melt into it.

“Get a room, dude!”

Chris can’t help laughing, puffing hot breath over Zach’s lips as he calls back, “Thanks, man!” He turns his attention back to Zach, shaking his head. “Just ignore him. I do.”

“What time does your shift finish?”

“Not until two,” Chris says with a slight grimace. “But I’m free tomorrow, if you’re up for a first official date.”

“I’m most definitely up for that. It can’t be in the afternoon, though,” Zach says matter-of-factly, trying not to grin. “I’ve got a callback for Sweeney Todd.”

“You have?” Chris pulls back, giving him the biggest smile. His excitement is infectious. “That’s awesome! Man, I knew you’d rock that part.”

“I know I have you to thank for it.”

Chris waves his gratitude away. “No way, man, I just offered your name. The rest you did all on your own.”

“Hey, Casanova!” Steve calls. “Break’s over!”

“Damn it.” Chris heaves a sigh and reluctantly steps back. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Zach shakes his head, enjoying Chris’ confusion for a moment before elucidating. “I’ll stay and keep you company.”

Chris’ face lights up again. “Great!” Neither mentions the fact that with the bar full to bursting, company is something Chris definitely isn’t short of. “And hey,” Chris adds as they start to walk back towards the bar, “if we keep up with the PDA, there’s a good chance that Steve might send me home early.”

Zach laughs, bumping his shoulder. “I can totally work with that.”

 

Three months later, when opening night rolls around for LA’s latest production of Sweeney Todd and it is instantly declared a triumph, Zach stands center stage and knows that he’s finally made it. But despite the long hard road to get there, the best part of his life isn’t the standing ovation or thunderous applause; it’s the man sitting in the front row, beaming up at him with overwhelming pride and love, the man who entered his life as a lie and became the truth. 

It’s Chris.


End file.
